


time to pretend

by Satine86



Series: that modern AU [1]
Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Suggestive Themes, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: Phillip needs to come up with a date to keep his parents pacified. Anne readily agrees to help out her friend. Unfortunately, very real feelings might get in the way of their very fake relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So what's the point of having a new OTP if you're not gonna throw all your fave tropes at them? I'm pretty sure this is gonna end up full on romcom or full on Gossip Girl. 
> 
> Just FYI I've switched up a couple details (no circus, for instance) to fit with a more modern story. Now without further ado... I present the fake dating fic.

“Come on, Carlyle. It can’t be that bad.” Phillip swiveled his head to look at Lettie, she’d spoken in a cajoling tone, her eyes perfectly passive as she gazed up at him. 

He sighed loudly. “You have not met my family, so I can assure you it is that bad.” 

“I don’t know, a weekend in the Hamptons sounds pretty swank to me.” Charles sent Phillip a Cheshire Cat grin. “Want me to fill in for ya?” 

“While I do appreciate the offer, I fear they may notice a couple differences,” Phillip said dryly, eyes sweeping over the other man's small stature. 

“You haven’t seen me in character yet.” Charles slid off his seat in the first row of the theater. 

Rehearsals had ended only twenty minutes prior, the troupe quickly scattering away until nary a soul was left. Except Phillip, and apparently Lettie and Charles. They had found him moping around the stage while cleaning up. Now he laid stretched out near the edge of the stage, one leg dangling while he wondered why he had even confided in them. Since it appeared they were far more interested in teasing him than actually helping. Then again, what else were friends for? 

In front of the stage Charles struck an overly gallant pose and ran a hand through his hair, fluff it up until it resembled something like an exaggerated pompadour. Phillip was already rolling his eyes. 

“Now, P.T. you can’t seriously think it’s a good idea to bring _horses_ into the theater?” Charles’ voice hitched up on the word horses, a frazzled look marring his brow. 

“I do not sound like that!” Phillip groused, nearly drowned out by Lettie’s hearty laughter. 

“I don’t know, I think he’s got you down pat.” She reached out to highfive Charles, who grinned and retook his seat. 

Phillip slowly clamored to his feet. “You are both terrible people, and you’re fired.” 

“Oh just wait a second, you big baby.” Lettie fanned her face, took a second to compose herself. “Alright, let’s work on this problem. You’re bemoaning the fact you have to go to your cousin’s wedding because….?”

“Because it’s four full days with all of the extended Carlyle family, which means it’s four days of being ridiculed as the black sheep. As well as my parents attempting to throw every eligible female socialite without fifty miles at me. In the hopes I will fall deeply in lust, marry her, and finally give up on this ‘pointless theater life.’” He gave them a dark look. “Whether she’s a third cousin or not.” 

Charles pulled a face. “You can’t be serious?”

“There was one time. I think they forgot she was actually related. Though it still happened.” He shuddered. 

“So just take a date?” Lettie shrugged. 

Phillip stared at her. “And who might that be? My non-existent girlfriend, because I don’t have all my free time tied up in this?” He gestured around the theater. It was an undeniable fact he spent more time there than at home. He’d gone from silent backer, to full producer, to writer, to co-owner, to general stage labor and jack-of-all-trades. Whatever needed to be done, whenever it needed to be done, Phillip did it. 

“You could always hire a date?” Charles suggested with a waggle of his eyebrow.

“I don’t think I can get away with taking an escort to my cousin’s wedding.” 

“Well, you have an entire troupe of actresses. Ask one of the girls!” Lettie waved a hand. “Not me though, unfortunately I already have plans.” She gave Phillip a saucy wink. 

He snorted and shook his head. “Neither of you are helping.” He bowed to a pretend person next to him. “Hello, I’m Phillip. You know, one of the guys who signs your paychecks? Would you be interested in pretending to be my girlfriend?” 

“Aw, hell, I’ll do it.” 

Phillip whirled around to find Anne Wheeler just off stage, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a purple blouse and looking quite pretty. If Phillip were entirely honest, the real reason for his current bout of singlehood had little to do with lack of time or opportunity, and decidedly more to do with Anne.

P.T. had hired her and her brother just over six months ago as ensemble dancers and understudies. And Phillip had been in love with her since nearly the first moment he met her. It hadn’t gotten any better in the time they’d spent getting to know each other. She was smart and dedicated and extremely talented, not to mention one of the most beautiful women Phillip had ever laid eyes on. 

“Anne, I didn’t know you were still here?” he managed past his surprise. 

“I got distracted cleaning out my locker.” She held up a small trash bag. “I’m serious you know, I’ll do it. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop a little bit,” she added with an apologetic smile. 

“Why?” he asked, shook his head. “I mean it’s a long weekend, not just a one-time thing. Are you sure you want to get into that?” 

“Yeah, why not?” She shrugged. “Besides, we’re friends. I can do you a favor, and in return I get a vacation in the Hamptons. Like Charles said, it’s pretty swank.”

Phillip couldn’t help but laugh, maybe a little nervous. “You say that now, but just wait until we get there.” 

It only dawned on him after he spoke that he hadn’t dissuaded her from the task. Sure, for Anne it might sound fun, an experiment of sorts: observe the social elite in their natural habitat, then quietly mock them once they were out of hearing range. For Phillip it sounded like equal parts good and bad. The good being the girl he was stupidly in love with was going to say she was his girlfriend. The bad being the fact it was all fake. 

“So,” Anne drawled, looking way too amused by the whole thing. “What will all this entail?” 

“Um, well mainly being a buffer? Hopefully keeping the three P’s to a minimum, you know; poking, prodding, and prying.” 

She laughed at that, smile wide and eyes crinkling at the corners. Phillip’s heart jumped up to his throat. “Alright, run interference. I can handle that. What else should I know?” 

“My family are a bunch of pretentious assholes, but they do at least keep a very, _very_ well stocked liquor cabinet?” He gave her a tight smile.

“I’m sure it will be fine. Stop worrying so much, Carlyle.” She finally made her way out to where he stood on stage, and patted his cheek. She turned as if to leave, but Phillip stopped her part way.

“Wait, this is… this is going to sound bad, and I’m really sorry.” He closed his eyes and scrunched his face. “But um… “ he trailed off, lifted a hand and made a vague motion toward her.

“Clothes?” she supplied, and Phillip blinked open one eye.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna need fancy ones?” 

“Yes.” He paused, wondering if he should even make the offer. Then he found his mouth working of its own accord. “I could, I mean we could--you’ll need a gown for the wedding, it's black tie. But it could be my treat?” 

Anne crossed back to him, looked at him from under a fan of thick lashes. “Why Phillip, are you going to give me my own Pretty Woman moment?” 

He wasn’t sure how to answer that, his face growing hot as he tried to stutter through an appropriate answer. Anne dissolved into laughter.

“This might all be worth it just for your face right now. That was priceless.” She sighed, still giggling. “Sure, I’ll let you buy me a fancy dress. Just text me the details, and I’ll see you later… honey.” Anne winked and walked away. 

It wasn’t until the side door shut in the distance that Phillip managed to breathe again, covering his eyes with one hand. It was then he noticed the sniggering in the front row, only then remembering that Lettie and Charles had witnessed the entire thing. He whirled around to find them leaning against each other, attempting to muffle their laughter.

“I wish I was going. This is going to be the best play never scripted!” Charles wiped the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, Phil, you’ve got it so bad.” Lettie gave him a pitying look, like one might a sick child. Or a small chihuahua that couldn’t stop shaking. “How are you going to survive this?” 

Phillip laughed, tried to play it off. Although his fake confidence soon trailed off into a look of worry as his heart hammered in his chest. How was he going to survive it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Anne's got the other half of the set up, I decided to just go ahead and post it. They're both idiots in love. Help them.

“Are you really sure about this?” W.D. asked, crowding the doorway to Anne’s bedroom. 

“For the hundredth time, yes. It’s honestly not that big of deal?” Anne rolled her eyes at him before she went back to searching for the matching sandal to the one she held in her hand. 

“Isn’t it?” W.D. raised an eyebrow, arms crossed tightly across his chest. 

Anne looked from up where she was crouched on the floor, trying to peer under her bed. “What?” 

“I know you like him, Anne.” 

She pulled a face, nose wrinkling. “So? We’re friends, of course I like him. Besides, everyone likes Phillip. Even you like him. Now, anyway.”

W.D. walked into her room, bent to retrieve the lost sandal from behind her vanity and handed it to her before taking a seat on her bed. 

“Sure, plenty of people at the theater like Phillip, but not everyone stares whenever he enters or exits a room.” 

“I don’t stare!” Anne cried, shooting to her feet and shoving the sandals into her suitcase. W.D. watched her packing, all the while giving her _that_ look.

“Okay, fine,” she relented. “Maybe I think he’s kinda cute? There’s nothing wrong with that.” She went back to primly folding clothes and silently prayed W.D. would drop it. She didn’t need a lecture. She already knew it was a stupid idea. 

Even now, so many days later, she couldn’t explain why she had opened her mouth and said she would go. She could have so easily just slipped out of the building after listening in, Phillip and the others none the wiser. No, instead she just had to speak up. Had to joke around and act like it was no big deal. In a sense, it wasn’t. She was an aspiring thespian, she could act the part. That was the problem though, she probably wouldn’t have to act too much. 

Because it wasn’t just that she thought Phillip was ‘cute’, he was. But he was also kind and patient and a surprisingly hard worker for a rich boy. He also had devastatingly pretty blue eyes. So if she had to pretend to be infatuated with her ‘boyfriend’, it wasn’t exactly going to be a challenge. 

“Look,” W.D said, pulling her from her thoughts. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I know, but I’m a big girl, W.D. I can handle this.” She waved her hand, gave him a crooked smile. “Plus Phillip is being really cool about it, and he’s already bought me that dress. It would be rude to bail now, that thing cost more than my rent!” 

The dress in question was hanging on her closet door, ready to be put in the garment bag it had come with. It was designer, of course; an elegant black gown that boasted a sleeveless lace bodice with a deep-v cut in front and back, and a sleek pleated skirt reached to the floor. A subtle slit ran up to her thigh. It was utterly gorgeous. 

Phillip hadn’t even seen her in it, jogging out of the boutique when he received an urgent call from P.T. Only sparing enough time to give it a quick thumbs up when of the clerks brought it out for her to try. He’d left his credit card with the saleswoman, who seemed more than happy to oblige, truly giving Anne her Pretty Woman moment. She was certain Phillip hadn’t even realized, she knew he would’ve been mortified if he had. 

“It is a nice dress,” W.D. conceded. “I guess if you’re set on this, I’ll just shut up. You always were stubborn.” 

Anne stuck out her tongue while walking out of the room, heading to the bathroom. She quickly swiped her things into a cosmetic bag and returned to place that in her suitcase as well. “What else, what else?” she muttered to herself, glancing around her room. W.D. scoffed at her. 

“The dress?” 

“Oh yeah!” Anne dodged toward the closet, gently placing it in the bag and lovingly zipping it up. “There!” she nodded when she was done, hands fisted on her hips. 

A loud buzzing came from the intercom, and W.D. stood up. “Want me to buzz lover boy up?” 

“Nah. Just tell him I’ll be right down.”

“Don’t want him to see where you live?” 

Their apartment was small and old, but it was still nice in Anne’s opinion. She had worked very hard to make it comfortable and homey. That wasn’t the reason she didn’t want Phillip up there.

“I don’t want you giving him in the third degree about this, we’ll be late.” She shoved him out of the room when the buzzer sounded again. 

There was a mad dash as Anne slipped on a pair of shoes, zipped up her suitcase, checked she had her purse and slung the garment bag over her shoulder. She shrugged W.D. off when she marched passed him toward the door.

“I got it, I got it.” 

“She’s coming down,” she heard W.D. say before the door swung shut. “Get ready to catch something.” 

Anne managed all the way to the front door of the building, using her foot to push it open. As soon as it was cracked, someone yanked it open all the way.

“Okay, he wasn’t kidding,” Phillip said as he leaned back to prop the door open, grabbing Anne’s suitcase and garment bag before she tripped over them.

“Thanks.” She re-adjusted her purse on her shoulder, stepped onto the street and watched as Phillip wheeled her suitcase forward and loaded it into his...car. Anne never cared much about cars, but W.D. did. That was how she knew the one before her was a Ferrari, a California Spyder that could've practically been out of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off except it was a gorgeous navy blue.

“That really your car?” she asked.

Phillip shut the trunk, ducked his head briefly. “Yeah. It was a gift; if I don't drive it up I'll get grief.”

“I guess we'll just have to suffer then?” Anne jokingly lamented with a sigh. She strode up to the car, couldn’t help but giving it an appreciative once over. “Will you show W.D. when we get back? He would die to see this.”

“Sure,” Phillip shrugged. “He can borrow it if he wants, take for a drive.” 

“He would love you forever.” 

“Well, it can’t hurt to get in his good graces I suppose?” Phillip smiled at her, then his eyes flew wide. “I only meant he can’t be thrilled about this weekend, I know he’s protective of you.” 

“W.D. is fine. You don’t need to worry about him. Now come on, let’s get going so this beautiful car can sit in traffic.” Phillip laughed and opened the passenger door, Anne slid inside marveling at the leather interior. 

As Phillip found his place behind the wheel, Anne cast him a snide glance. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He looked over his shoulder and pulled out. 

“How rich are you?” 

“Uh..” He pulled a face. “Personally, not that rich. I sank nearly every dime I had into the theater and P.T.’s schemes. If that goes belly up, I’ll probably be on the street.” 

Anne snorted, doubtful that would ever happen. She paused before asking, “How rich is your family then?” 

“It’s a bunch of old money, like Rockefeller old, so you can imagine from there.” 

Anne tried to comprehend that level of wealth and failed, even while she sat in a car that probably cost more than her entire apartment building. 

“Did I make you nervous?” Phillip asked, casting her a brief, worried glance. 

“No. I’m fine.” She settled herself in her seat. “So we have a couple hours to build up an entire fake relationship. I think we should keep it simple. The closer to the truth, the better. Easier to remember, and every good lie has a grain of truth.” 

“You lie a lot then?” 

“I’m going to be an actress,” she said and flipped her hair over her shoulder. 

He laughed again, and Anne thought she could get used to making him laugh. Something about Phillip always made him seem a little sullen, a little sad. It was nice to see him happy, and she vowed to try her best to make sure he was happy the entire weekend. 

“So we met at the theater?” he supplied. 

“Mhm. We hit it off, you asked me out, and the rest is history. Simple.” Anne spread her hands with a flourish. 

“I doubt anything about this weekend will be ‘simple’, but I’m glad you’re here for it.” He spoke absently, concentrating on the traffic in front of them. 

Anne doubted he meant anything other than it was nice to have a friend around. That logic didn’t stop her heart from stuttering inside her chest, or the fluttering in her stomach. This whole thing was absolutely a terrible idea, and Anne was going to enjoy every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also here is the inspiration for Anne's dress: [follow the link](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/main/ProductDetail.jsp?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306640926&PRODUCT%3C%3Eprd_id=845524447184199&R=843170102675&P_name=Yigal+Azrou%26%23235%3Bl&N=306640926&bmUID=maAfr09)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn some things and finally meet the parents.
> 
> also I've hit over 12k on this fic, and it's still going. just fair warning tags and rating (!) may be subject to change. >.>

The drive to the Hamptons was the most enjoyable Phillip could remember. He and Anne had spent a short time building their pretend relationship, right down to preferred pet names and the like. Then the conversation changed to idle chit-chat, easily flowing from topic to the next as they talked about everything and nothing. And Phillip had to constantly remind himself that she wasn’t really his girlfriend. 

Now, as they grew closer to their destination, they were sharing pertinent information about their backgrounds. Phillip knew a fair amount about Anne already, which made it easier. She and W.D. had moved to New York from New Orleans, leaving behind their mother and grandmother as well as some extended family. Anne still had weekly conversations with her mom, and had just gotten her grandmother comfortable with email so they could share recipes. 

It sounded so nice, so normal. Phillip couldn’t even begin to imagine what that felt like. 

“And this cousin, you two close?” Anne asked, the conversation now turning to his own family. 

He nodded vaguely. “We were, growing up. We’re only a couple months apart. I had some good times with Edward… Eddie.”

“Good times, or _good_ times?” Anne teased with a giggle. 

Phillip gave a hollow laugh. “Good enough that there’s a large portion of them I don’t really remember.”

In his peripheral vision he could see Anne shifting in her seat, turning toward him a little more fully. “Do I get to hear a story?” she entreated. 

“No, I think I’ll keep those to myself.” 

She let out an indignant cry. “Come on, I think I deserve one for this weekend at least.” 

“Fine,” he said, trying to think of a suitable one. “Spring break senior year of college, Cancun--”

“That sounds fairly typical if you’ve got the money, Richie Rich.” 

Phillip gave her a sidelong glance. “Sure, except we were supposed to be in Nantucket and I _still_ have no idea how we got there.” 

Anne gave a long whistle. “That’s some partying.”

“That was what Eddie and I did. But I don’t anymore.” He frowned a bit, wondering how to even broach that subject. Maybe to just dive in? “That’s another thing you’ll probably need to run interference on. My family all drink like fishes, but none of them would ever find it in themselves to admit they were an alcoholic or go to AA.”

“You go to AA?” 

“Not as much now, but when I need to. I used to need to a lot,” he confided with a quick look toward Anne.

She smiled and shrugged. “Okay.”

“Just… okay?”

“Am I supposed to say something else?”

“No, I mean.. I don’t know?” He felt his face flush, gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “It’s not exactly something I share with a lot of people.”

“Well I’m glad you shared with me,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice, and glanced at her again from the corner of his eye. She looked completely sincere, and Phillip knew she meant it. 

He was glad too. 

The rest of their conversation died once Phillip turned down the road that would lead to the family compound. A tree lined path wound its way up to the circular driveway before the house. Their car came to a stop, and Anne was out of it before the butler on the steps or Phillip even had a chance to move.

“This is really it?” she asked, gave a slightly hysterical laugh. 

The “house” was in truth a colonial style mansion, consisting of three existing buildings that had been linked together over time. Not to mention the garage, various outbuildings, and the poolhouse. In the afternoon sun, everything looked perfectly pristine, from the polished glass on the windows to the well manicured grounds. Phillip doubted there was even a fleck of dust on the white painted shutters. 

“It looks like a castle,” Anne said when Phillip stopped next to her. 

“It’s a lot. You’ll probably get lost at least once.” 

For the first time since he had known her, Anne looked a little overwhelmed. A little timid. Phillip could feel the eyes of the staff on them, and impulsively reached out to take Anne’s hand. Partly for show, mostly for reassurance. 

“Hey, you’ll be fine,” he said. 

She gave him a shy smile, squeezed his hand and let him start leading her up the steps. “Shouldn’t we get our bags?”

“No. They’ll take care of it.” He nodded toward the butler and footman waiting by the door. 

Anne nodded at Phillip, then the men, and only spoke once they were inside the entry hall. “Your family has servants,” she muttered.

“They’re really rich,” he whispered back. 

It was cool inside the house, the entry consisting of a gleaming marble floor and table with a giant bouquet of flowers so ostentatious it looked like it belonged in a hotel lobby. At least some things never changed. Two flights of stairs stood on either side, beyond that were a large set of doors that opened up to the library on the left, and several other doors on the right leading to various points in the house. 

“Phillip, you’re right on time.” 

He turned slightly to see his mother emerge from the library, looking prim. Her brown hair swept up in an immaculate French twist, her plain cream dress pressed perfectly. Phillip always thought his mother would be pretty, if she were to smile more. Next appeared his father. As stoic and taciturn as always. 

“Mother, father, this is Anne Wheeler. My… girlfriend.” At his hesitancy Anne squeezed his hand, nudged his shoulder slightly with hers. A small part of him couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually mean it. 

“A pleasure to finally meet you both.” Anne inclined her head, looked like she might extend her free hand but thought better of it. 

“Hello.” His mother gave Anne a curt nod, eyes sweeping past her to Phillip. “You mentioned you were bringing someone. From the theater?” 

“Yes, mother.”

“Are you an actress?” his father asked, eyes surveying Anne. 

“I hope to be. Right now I’m just part of the ensamble, mainly.” Anne dipped her head, obviously uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Phillip immediately felt the need to come to her aid.

“Anne is incredibly talented, I’m sure she’ll be on Broadway before we know it.” 

He could feel her gaze boring into the side of his face, and eyed her askance. “You really think so,” she whispered. Phillip nodded, gave her a half-smile. He was absolutely certain. 

“Well, that’s something I suppose.” His mother smiled, placating. “Phillip dear, why don’t you take Anne upstairs to freshen up before she starts meeting everyone? The lilac room.” 

“Of course, mother. We’ll be down shortly.” Without further prompting, he gently pulled Anne toward one of the staircases, winding their way up to the west wing. Phillip intentionally slowed his pace to let Anne gawk at everything along the way. 

“What’s the lilac room?” 

“It’s a helpful way to distinguish where you’re going. The west wing rooms look over the gardens and grounds, so they have botanical names. The east wing looks over the water, so they have nautical names.” 

“Do I need to change? Is that what she meant by ‘freshen up’?” 

Phillip glanced back to look at Anne smoothing a hand over her pink sundress. “No. That’s just mother being mother. If we sit up here for ten minutes and you put on some lipstick she’ll be fine.” 

“Besides,” he said, unable to stop himself. “You look beautiful.” Suddenly overly self-conscious about the compliment, Phillip didn’t give her time to answer and instead stopped her before one of the wooden doors lining the hall.

“The lilac room,” Anne read the title card on the door. 

“Thus named for the lilacs on the door.” He pointed to the carvings adorning the frame. “The entire room isn’t lilac, I promise.” 

“Where will you stay?” 

“I don’t actually know?” Phillip glanced around as if the answer would come to him. “I used to always stay in the east wing.” 

“Which room?” 

“The schooner room,” he sighed. “Let’s get you settled, I’ll figure it out eventually.” Opening the door, he gestured for Anne to enter and quickly followed.

They both noticed it as the same time: his luggage neatly sat next to hers.

“I guess your mother doesn’t mind if we share?”

“That’s surprising.”

“Well, gotta keep up appearances.” Anne shrugged lightly. 

Phillip could only turn and stare at her, “Y-you don’t mind?” 

“It might seem weird if we argued against sharing. Besides, the bed looks big.” She waved a hand and cleared her throat. “I shared a futon with a friend when I first moved here, and W.D. was living in a rathole he found on Craigslist. That looks infinitely more comfortable.”

The four-poster bed did look comfortable, with a plush floral print comforter, and more pillows than Phillip could count. It also appeared to be a queen sized bed, which would be more than enough space for two. Theoretically, at least. Phillip wasn’t sure it would be enough in actuality, not when the idea of sharing a bed with Anne made his palms sweaty and his mouth drier than a dessert. 

Still, she had a point. They had a story to uphold, and if she didn't seem to mind… then he wouldn’t either. So he discreetly rubbed his sweating palms on his pant legs, and stupidly nodded his agreement. 

As he watched Anne start to unpack, setting shoes in the closet and a bag of makeup in the bathroom, he thought it was all incredibly domestic. Phillip felt a twinge in his chest, a longing for something that wasn’t really his. 

He silently prayed he would make it out of the weekend alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Anne is a bit of a voyeur....

Anne could no longer remember who was who. She knew Phillip’s parents, could not forget them if she tried, between their upturned noses and snide remarks. 

Everyone else in the Carlyle clan, however, had slowly melted into one. Not to mention some of the bride’s family, although they were blessedly fewer. Names floated around her head, but she was unable to attach them to the correct person. Aunts, uncles, and cousins, second, third and twice removed. It got complicated the more generations brought into play.

Thankfully Phillip was never far from her side while the cocktail party turned meet and greet wore on into the evening hours. She kept a watchful eye on him, more for her own comfort than anything. It was good to know he was there. Although he was starting to look tired, and she thought it didn’t have much to do with the long drive up. 

She had noticed how he kept a highball glass in his hand at all times, tonic and lime, nursing it slowly. Anne had been surprised at his honesty about AA, and the fact he had decided to tell her made her feel... proud. He trusted her, and that meant something. 

Currently Phillip was talking with his father, looking a little uncomfortable as he shifted from foot to foot. Anne watched him, and debated if she should attempt to rescue him, when someone appeared next to her.

“You must be Philly’s girl.” 

Anne looked at the man next to her; he seemed close in age to Phillip, a little taller in height, and far stockier. He had dark blonde hair, and blue-grey eyes the same shape as Phillip’s.

“I’m Eddie,” he said and stuck out his hand. 

“The groom, congratulations.” Anne smiled and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Anne."

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too. I gotta say when I heard that Phillip was actually coming, I was a little shocked. Let alone bringing a date.” He tilted his head at her. “Not that he and I talk as much as we should, but I wasn’t aware he was dating anyone.” 

Anne let out a breath, tucked her curls behind her ear. “It’s fairly new, just a few months.” 

“I see, and you’re an actress I heard?” 

“Of sorts. I’m one of the dancers at the theater.” 

“Right, the theater. Phil’s little… hobby.” At that Eddie gave Anne a distinct once over, eyes raking up and down in a way that made her feel judged and exposed at the same time. She tried to covertly pull her shawl a little closer, even though she knew it would do little to banish the feeling. 

As if he could sense her discomfort, Phillip appeared at that moment; hesitated for only a second before he wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. Anne had never been happier to see him, and took the moment to show her gratitude and keep up the ruse. She leaned toward him, brushed an affectionate kiss against his cheek. 

His face remained relaxed when she pulled back, but his eyes met hers directly and there was a question there. She couldn’t answer it so instead she plastered a smile on her face.

“Eddie and I were just talking about you.” 

“Oh, god. What did he tell you?” 

“I hadn’t gotten there yet. We were just getting acquainted.” He grinned, and Anne forced a polite smile in return while instinctually pressing herself closer to Phillip. 

Phillip took notice of it, and intervened before the conversation got too involved. “I’m glad you two could meet each other, but I’m starving and the pâté isn’t cutting it.” He tilted his head toward Anne. “You wanna raid the kitchen with me?” 

She nodded happily. “Of course.” 

He smiled in return, warm and genuine and Anne felt her breath hitch. Phillip finally relinquished his hold on the glass he’d been carrying around all evening like a talisman, and clapped Eddie on the shoulder. His other arm remained securely around Anne’s waist.

“Excuse us for a bit, Ed. You go mingle, it is your party after all,” he said and started to guide Anne toward the doors leading back into the estate. 

Once they were out of hearing distance, he leaned in close to her ear. “I’m sorry if he was bothering you.”

“It’s fine, really.” The last thing she wanted was to cause a fuss. It seemed easier to just forget it and move on. “Are you really hungry?”

He smiled, tilted his head left and right. “I wouldn’t turn down actual food. What about you?” As if on cue her stomach gurgled and she pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. Phillip broke out in laughter.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said. 

***

 

Things had been salvaged once Anne and Phillip got to the kitchens. They’d spent the rest of the party hiding in there, stealing food and talking. Truthfully, Anne thought it had been an enjoyable evening. 

Then it came time for them to retire for the night. 

Anne was the first in the bathroom, upset that she hadn’t brought nicer pajamas. If she had known she would be sharing with Phillip she would have at least packed a matching pair. As it were she was stuck with a pair of old boy shorts and a t-shirt that had once belonged to W.D. but had been shrunk beyond all hope. 

Now she sat on the bed, back propped against the headboard while pretending to read the book she had brought with her. In reality, she had discovered that if she looked in the mirror atop set of dresser drawers across from the bed, she could peer right into the bathroom through the slightly ajar door. 

She knew full well that she was no better than someone like Eddie, but that didn’t keep her from spying on Phillip as he readied himself for bed. At the moment he was clad in only a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else. 

Anne watched as he rummaged around in his toiletry bag, and made the most adorably confused face that she had to bite her lip to keep from making some ridiculous cooing noise. When had her crush gotten so bad? Probably around the time he inadvertently played knight in shining armor. 

“Anne?” he called. “I’m stealing your toothpaste, I forgot to pack mine.” 

“That’s fine,” she said, still unable to look away. 

It was such an invasion of privacy, she thought, watching how his arm flexed when he popped the toothbrush in his mouth. It was stupid and it was wrong and she should stop. Only after he had finished brushing his teeth, he splashed his face with water. Anne’s eyes followed the trail of a water droplet down his chest, only looking when he reached for a towel to dry his face. 

Sighing deeply, she tried to focus on her book and hoped Phillip wouldn’t ask her about it. She had barely made it past the first paragraph, and even that she couldn’t recall a word of. When Phillip finally emerged from the bathroom, she pretended not to watch him as he walked around to his side of the bed. His side, like it was a permanent thing and not just an arrangement for a couple nights. 

Four nights, a part of her brain supplied. Four entire nights sleeping next to Phillip, sneaking glances and wanting nothing more than to grab him and kiss his stupidly handsome face. She wouldn’t though, that would be ridiculous.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice soft and only then did realize she had sighed again. She flashed him a quick smile and nodded her head. Phillip eyed her for a moment, but eventually accepted her word and wished her goodnight.

“Should I turn off my lamp?”

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” He switched off his, turned his back away from her light and let his shoulders relax.

Anne wasn’t sure how long she sat there, her book propped against her thighs. She did know that she hadn’t read a single word of her book, and that Phillip had shifted in his sleep. He was now turned towards her, on his side, both hands resting on the space of bed between them. His face was lax in sleep, no stress pinching his brows together or turning the corners of his mouth down. Her heart ached with how peaceful he looked. 

Quietly, and as gently as she could, Anne put her book down and shut off the bedside lamp. Then she scooted down in bed and rested her head on her pillow, close enough that she could see Phillip’s face. 

In a moment of sheer madness, she reached out and laid her hand in his open palm. The second their hands touched, Phillip’s fingers curled around hers and he sighed, drawing their linked hands close to his chest. Anne could scarcely breathe, heart hammering in her chest. When he remained asleep, she let go of her breath and let herself relax. 

That night she fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this today, but the urge was too strong. So here we are: Chapter 5... in which I would like to issue a formal apology to one Phillip Carlyle.

Legs. 

It had been the only thing playing through Phillip’s mind since he had woken up that morning. He had gone to bed in a state of panic, wondering how he was actually going to fall asleep when Anne was an arm’s length away in a pair of shorts that exposed her long, smooth legs from hip to toe. The answer had been, surprisingly, quite well. 

When Phillip had woken though, he found that Anne was no longer an arm’s length away. Or even two. Instead she had been right next to him, hugging his middle like he was a glorified body pillow -- not that he minded -- with her legs tangled around his like an octopus. Again, he hadn’t minded. 

He had been in a state ever since, unable to focus and wondering how in the hell he was going to keep Anne from realizing he was hopelessly in love with her. At least when they were around other people he could just pretend he was acting. By early afternoon he had managed to get himself somewhat under control, then Heater, the bride-to-be, and some of her bridal party had decided to lounge by the pool. Kindly inviting Anne to join. 

He was happy some of the girls seemed to be including her in their plans. That was until he saw Anne in a bikini. 

Every coherent thought left him, until all that was left were base functions and caveman brain. He was stuck on the lawn, rooted to the ground, as he watched Anne stretch out on a lounge chair, adjusting her hat until the sun was out of her face.

“Dude, you’re drooling.” Eddie appeared at his side, shut Phillip’s open mouth with an audible click. 

“Huh?” Phillip finally managed to swing his gaze toward his cousin. 

“I was asking if you wanted to join me and the guys on a little boat trip?” He slung an arm around Phillip’s shoulders, pointed toward the sailboat tethered to the estate’s dock, jutting out from the edge of the grounds. Phillip could just make out Eddie’s friends, the groomsmen, getting things ready. 

“Um…” Phillip tried to get his brain working again, to focus on what was in front of him rather than Anne in the distance with her willowy limbs and warm smile. He wasn’t entirely comfortable spending an afternoon with that group, alone. He had spent plenty of time with them in the past to know what their main idea of fun was: drinking. Lots of drinking. Though they were older now, and maybe he could hope they had gained some maturity. 

“Let me just check with Anne first.” He jerked a thumb over shoulder, and Eddie made a whip crack noise. Phillip ignored him and walked to the poolside. 

He crouched next to Anne, facing her as directly as he could in hopes he wouldn’t spend the entire conversation staring at her legs. 

“Hey.” She smiled at him and took off her sunglasses. “I was wondering where you were.” 

“I was talking to Eddie.” 

Anne glanced back toward the lawn where Eddie was still waiting. “I see,” she said, her smile turning a little tight. 

“He wants me to join the groomsmen sailing.” Phillip leaned in a little closer to Anne, until her floppy straw hat mostly blocked them from the others. “You okay?”

She looked him in the eye, studied him closely. “Are _you_ okay?” 

No, he wasn’t the least bit okay, but there was little anyone could do about it. Unless they wanted to leave him alone in a cold shower for twenty minutes. Or--oh, no. There was no ‘or.’ 

“I’m fine, if you are. With them.” He rolled his eyes toward the other women clustered around the pool.

“‘Course, go have some fun with your cousin.” 

“Unless you wanted to join?” 

“No, I will stay firmly on land. Thank you very much.” She gave him a playful smile, and for a brief moment he thought about staying. Just to be near her and hopefully get her to smile like that again. But then Eddie was calling his name, waving him over. “You better hurry up,” Anne said, shooed him off. 

He stood and turned to leave as someone called, “Phillip, aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“What?” He turned around with a questioning look. 

It was the maid of honor who had spoken. “It’s good luck to kiss your sweetheart before you set sail.” 

“Right.” Phillip crouched down again, tried to silently ask Anne if she was okay with it. She gave a silently nod of her head, barely noticeable. 

Phillip gently tipped her chin up, and leaned in until his lips carefully rested his against hers. It was the softest kiss he could muster, like the brush of a butterfly wing, and was over in an instant. When Phillip pulled back and stood up again, he had to concentrate on keeping himself steady, faintly aware of a few of his younger cousins ‘awwing’ behind them. 

Anne looked breathtakingly beautiful; her chin slightly tilted upward, eyes shut, and lips drawn into the smallest pout. Phillip wanted to kiss her again, for real, but that wasn’t really an option. So instead he quickly bid everyone a fumbling goodbye, and fled.

 

***

 

Spending the afternoon with Eddie and the other’s turned out to be a rather enjoyable experience. It helped distract his thoughts from Anne, and felt a lot like old times in the best ways possible. It was fun until… it wasn’t. 

“So what’s the deal with Anne?” Don, one of Eddie’s more blockheaded friend’s, asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well she’s hot, man.” He shrugged. 

“I think he wants to know if you’re hitting it,” another of the blockheads clarified. 

Phillip could glare at the pair of them. “Our relationship is none of your damn business.” 

“Oooh. That means he hasn’t tapped it yet, poor bastard.” 

“What’s the problem, Philly Boy? Is she saving herself or some shit?” Don gave him a quizzical look. “She didn’t strike me as the pure type.” 

Phillip was on his feet in an instant, ready to deck Don if not for Eddie holding him back. 

“God, you guys. I had a reason for asking Phillip out here, and now you’re fucking ruining it.” Eddie forcefully guided Phillip to the stern of the boat, giving Don a wide berth in the process. 

“What?” Phillip asked, still glaring daggers at Don.

“I’m sorry about them. I wanted to ask you something, and I thought this would be a good way to do it.” 

Finally Phillip turned his full attention onto his cousin. “Okay, ask.” 

“I know it’s way late, but I was kinda hoping you’d be one of my groomsmen?” Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just we used to so close, and I miss it. You were my best friend growing up.” 

Of all the things he thought Eddie would say, that was probably the last. Phillip couldn’t help but feel a little touched by the whole thing. 

“Of course,” he said. “It’d be my honor.” 

A smile spread across Eddie’s face and he clapped his hands together before hugging Phillip, his fist pounding his back. 

“Great. This is great!” He excitedly turned to the others, and before Phillip knew what was happening it seemed there was a party in motion. 

Music blared and coolers were brought out, crammed with bottles of varying sizes and liquors. A lead weight settled in Phillip’s stomach, as he tried to navigate his way back to his seat without having a drink shoved into his hands. 

He managed to stay drink-free for a short time until Eddie stood before, a beer bottle in hand. “Come on, man.” 

“Nah. I’m good, thanks.” 

“We’re celebrating, Philly. You gotta have a drink.” Behind Eddie there was a chorus of “drink drink drink!” from the rowdy group.

Phillip knew he couldn’t get away with saying no; knew they wouldn’t stop pestering him until he took it. It was just a beer, he reasoned as his fingers curled around the bottle’s smooth neck, the glass pleasantly cool to the touch. 

One sip and they would all shut up, he told himself as he upended the bottle, the cold liquid fizzing in his mouth before he swallowed. 

Just one sip.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Anne is amazing and I reissue my formal apology to one Phillip Carlyle.

“Anne, what’s it like working at a theater?” asked one of Phillip’s younger cousins, or was it a second cousin? She seemed to be a sweet girl, barely thirteen with bright eyes and auburn curls. 

“It’s fun. A lot of hard work, a lot of practice, but I love it.” 

“You know,” Heather said, slathering a fresh layer of sunscreen on her legs. Anne was still trying to decide how she felt about the bride-to-be. She thought anyone who would marry Eddie had to be a piece of work in their own right. “I’m shocked Phillip’s still there.”

“What do you mean?”

Heather looked up at Anne, tilted her head in a birdlike way. “Just you know how Phillip is, always flitting from one thing to the next.”

The other women all laughed, while Anne could only look at them in confusion. Heather went back to reapplying her sunscreen as she spoke, “He had… what? Three majors in college before he settled? Then he was going to backpack across Europe. Oh, and write a novel. I remember that distinctly, he wanted to be a novelist.” 

“Phillip’s written two plays for the theater, they’re really good.” 

Heather lifted her gaze to Anne again, blinked owlishly. “I’m not saying he isn’t talented, it’s just the idea of him actually finishing something is beyond me.” 

“That doesn’t sound like the Phillip I know,” Anne said, voice softer than she intended. It was the truth though. The Phillip she knew was one of the hardest working people she’d ever met, dedicated to the theater and the troupe. _Her_ Phillip was passionate about his work. 

“Well, people change.” Heather glanced around at the others, and let out a tittering laugh. “Lord knows I have, remember when I was certain I’d marry Phillip?” 

Anne’s head snapped up. “I’m sorry?” 

“Oh, didn’t you know?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Eddie and I were on and off, and on and off all throughout college. Though there was a point, right before graduation, when we had a terrible break up. Phillip and I grew quite close after that, and we dated for almost a year. At one point I fancied he was the one, but eventually we drifted apart.” 

“I see.” Anne had absolutely no right to be jealous. There was no reason for Phillip to have told her that piece of information, they weren’t actually together and it was obviously years ago. Although that didn’t stop her stomach from twisting itself in knots at the thought, or her brain from replaying their achingly soft kiss from earlier. He had been respectful and sweet and it was all for show, she reminded herself. All for show. 

“I’m surprised he never told you.” 

“Well, Phillip mustn’t have thought it was very important.” Anne pulled off her hat then, started fanning her face as she stood up. “I’m roasting; think I’ll head inside and change before dinner. See y’all then.” 

She turned and walked away before anyone could say a word, her head held high. Though she did wonder how long it would take for them to decipher her meaning. 

 

***

 

Anne was worried. Phillip hadn’t been down for dinner, though Eddie and his group of miscreants had been in attendance. He had been asked about Phillip several times, but only shrugged and said he hadn’t seen him since their return from sailing.

When Phillip was still missing by the end of the second course, and every frantic text she’d sent went unanswered, Anne excused herself as politely as she could and went to find him. She managed to make her way back to their room, but it was slow going as she got lost coming from the dining room. 

Finally she came across the lilac covered door and opened it slowly, in case he was sleeping. The bed was empty. Though she could see a shaft of light through a crack in the bathroom door.

“Phillip?” she called, knocking on it gently. A pathetic sounding moan was her only response. Even more worried, she pushed open the door and found him knelt on the floor, head in the toilet. She quickly crossed the room, and crouched next to him. The pungent smell of alcohol immediately hit her nostrils. 

“Oh, Phillip. What have you done to yourself?” Anne kept her voice gentle, placed a cool hand on the back of his neck. 

Slowly he turned his face toward her, rested his cheek on the arm cradling the toilet bowl. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy and full of regret.

“I fucked up, Anne.” 

Anne sighed, and soothed a hand down the side of his face. “Come on, let’s get you some water.” She made him sit back, resting against the opposite wall. She shut the toilet lid and flushed it. Then she filled one of the glasses by the sink with water before dampening a washcloth as well.

“You should go. I don’t want you to see me like this.” His words sounded heavy, like it was an effort to get them out.

She gave him a long look before she sat down next to him. “Well, tough, Carlyle. I’m not going anywhere.” She handed him the glass of water, waited until he drained it before gently using the cloth to wipe his brow and cool his flushed face. 

“What happened?”

“I thought it would be okay. I just wanted them to shut up.” He shook his head. “One sip and it would alllll be fine. But then it was like old times.” 

Of course Eddie was responsible for this. The next moment she had an opportunity she was going to let him have it. How dare he do that to Phillip, he had to have known what it would cost.

“I fucked up,” he repeated. “Two years sober. All for nothing.” 

Anne reached out and carefully guided Phillip’s head to her lap. He didn’t protest, simply followed her direction. She started running her fingers through his hair, soothing him as best she could. 

“No, baby. It wasn’t for nothing,” she said, letting her other hand cup his cheek. “This was a mistake, a big one. But it’s just that: one. Tomorrow you can call your sponsor, or whoever you trust. And you can start again.” 

“What if I can’t? What if this is all I am?” 

“Phillip Carlyle, you know very well this is not all you are,” she said fiercely. She couldn’t help but think of everyone earlier, ready to belittle Phillip as nothing more than a flake. When he wasn’t, he had just needed to find his purpose.

“You are kind, you take care of everyone at the theater. You are a good friend, and constant supporter. You are strong and you’ve done this before. That’s how I know tomorrow you’ll be able to start over again, and if it gets hard then I’ll be here to help.” His eyes were shut, but she knew he was listening to every word.

After a few minutes, Anne started to help him sit up. “Now come on, let’s clean you up. Think you can manage getting ready for bed?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded weakly, and let her pull him up to standing. He swayed a bit but managed to keep his feet. Anne dashed out of the bathroom to get his pajamas while he brushed his teeth. When she returned to pass them off, he stopped and just looked at her for a moment. His eyes were still bloodshot, but less glassy… a little clearer. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he said. 

Anne reached out, smoothed his hair down a bit and then let her hand trail down the side of face before resting on his jaw. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and he sighed.

“That’s just silly, of course you do. Good people draw good friends.” Which was true, and they were friends. She just happened to care about him a bit more than that. He opened his eyes again at her words, and nodded slowly. Anne smiled and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. When she pulled back her lips tasted like peppermint. 

“Are you hungry? I could run down and get you something. Be honest,” she added when he started to shake his head no. A firm yes. “I’ll be right back.” 

Anne trailed her way to the kitchens, taking the path Phillip had cut out for them the night before. Once she was in the hall downstairs, she was surprised to see Eddie and some of his friends chatting. She glanced toward the grandfather clock near them, and realized dinner had just ended. 

“Anne.” Eddie grinned the moment he saw her. “Did you find Phillip?”

Anger curled in her belly and Anne marched forward with purpose until she was practically nose to nose with Eddie. “If you ever do anything like that again--”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, a little too innocently. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You know exactly what you did to Phillip, and you should be ashamed.” She started to leave, making for the kitchens again.

“Ooh, kitten has claws,” Eddie drawled. Anne stopped and took in a deep breath through her nose, using every ounce of willpower she possessed not to reach out and slap him. She met his smug gaze with a glare.

“If you disrespect me again, or pull another stunt like that with Phillip, I’ll show you claws.” She whirled around and left Eddie, along with his hooting and hollering friends, in her wake. 

It took Anne a long time to calm down and when she finally returned to their room, she found Phillip sound asleep on top of the comforter. His hair was still damp from a shower, his face decidedly less green around the edges. Anne sat some crackers and a banana on the bedside table in easy reach, and then refilled the glass of water. She also dug out a couple Tylenol from her purse, and laid a throw over Phillip. After he was taken care of, she quickly readied herself for sleep and crawled onto the bed.

She slid forward until she was nearly flush against Phillip, brushed his hair back gently. Then she pulled the throw over her legs and rested her head on his shoulder, falling into a peaceful sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Phillip feels like crap, but it's kinda okay.

When morning came, Phillip felt like shit. He felt even more like shit when he had to peel himself away from Anne, nearly sprawled out on top of him. If he could have stayed like that until it was time to go back to the city on Monday, he would have. Only the pounding in his head demanded his attention. Although he nearly lost his resolve when Anne made a whining noise in the back of her throat, and immediately curled up on the warm spot he had just vacated. 

He was pleasantly surprised to find that had Anne had thought ahead and left him a small offering on the bedside table. Phillip quickly popped the aspirin and downed the glass of water. He peeled the banana and demolished it in two bites. It would help a little with the hangover, enough for him to call his sponsor. 

Phillip dressed quietly, grabbed his cell phone and left the room to keep from disturbing Anne. He found a quiet spot in the library, sat down on one of the window seats lining the wall, and stared at his phone for a good long while. Eventually he forced himself to make the call, and when he was done he felt better for it. It would still take time for him to forgive himself, to ease the shame, but he did feel better. After that he headed to the kitchens for coffee and whatever fresh pastry he could get for Anne, seeing it as the least he could do in return for all she had done.

The night before was hazy in most parts, but he could clearly remember Anne. She had been kind, not that she wasn’t kind naturally, and not that he thought she would leave him to suffer exactly. But she had been exceedingly kind, and something about it tugged at him; at his heart, at his mind, at something deep in his core. Except it was too early and his head hurt too much and it seemed fruitless to even go down that path. 

The kitchen staff were busy preparing for the morning meal, as well as the rehearsal dinner that night. People bustled about, and every so often Phillip caught a whiff of something particularly delicious. One of the kitchen helpers was happy to get him coffee, seemingly used to various people in the household dropping by for their caffeine fix. 

As Phillip sat at one of the few empty tables in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and waiting for the chef’s cinnamon rolls to finish baking, he was surprised to see his father appear in the doorway. 

“Ah, there you are. The butler mentioned you were up.” 

Of course, couldn’t do anything without someone tattling on you. He drained his cup and peered up at his father. “Did you need something?” 

“I wish to speak with you. In private.”

“Can’t it wait? I want to take Anne her breakfast.” 

“No. It cannot. I wanted to speak with you last night, but that was put on hold after your little disappearing act.” His father turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, fully expecting Phillip to follow. Wanting to avoid any yelling for the time being, Phillip did just that. 

Inside his father’s office, Phillip took a seat in the leather chair before the desk and waited for his father to speak. He could hazard a guess at what this was about, and hoped he was wrong. 

“Phillip, I know you don’t want to have this conversation again.” So much for hoping. “But you can’t continue this useless theater endeavor. It’s time you start taking things seriously, turn your attention on the family and eventually running the foundation.” 

“We’ve had this argument for nearly a decade, I don’t want to run the foundation. Let Eddie or Jake or anyone else do it.” He knew full well Eddie would be a disaster, but Phillip was almost past the point of caring. At least until his stopped feeling like it was packed with cotton. 

“I don’t wish to pass it along to my nephews, or my younger brothers, I wish to pass it along to my son. Like my father did and-”

“Like his father did. And so and so." Phillip rolled his eyes at the old tirade. "Dad, I majored in business because you wouldn’t stop badgering me, but that doesn’t mean I want to run the family business. I’m happy where I am. I know you can’t understand that, but couldn’t you at least pretend to care that I’m happy?”

“This isn’t about happiness, Phillip. This is about doing what is required of you, what you’re meant for.” 

“Says who? You? Well, sorry but I’m not buying it. I don’t want that responsibility, I never have, and I never will.” He got up and walked to the door.

“That’s it? Now you’ll just run back to your little harlot and hole up in some dingey New York apartment with your ridiculous off-off-Broadway plays?” 

Phillip turned to glare at his father. “How _dare_ you speak about Anne that way?”

“The shine will fade one day, Phillip. You’ll see, and when it does I’ll be here.” 

“Well, I hope you don’t mind waiting.” He slammed the door shut behind him. 

 

***

 

Phillip did his best to quell his anger, because he knew it was fruitless. He had spent too many years being angry with his father. The task became easier when he finally made it back to their room, and got to wake Anne with a tray of breakfast. Including a still warm cinnamon roll. She had been thrilled by the surprise, looking adorably sleepy, eyes still drooping as she happily devoured it. 

Despite the fact the rehearsal dinner was that night, and the wedding the following day, Phillip decided it would be best if he could avoid his family as much as possible. Especially Eddie. That was how he and Anne came to have a picnic in the rose gardens, tucked behind a topiary and clutch of roses the softest shade of lavender. The weather beaten tag at the base noted they were called “ocean song.” 

In the distance the sounds of workers could be heard, putting up a large pavilion for the wedding reception and dinner the following day. Though the noises were mostly dulled by the excess of plants. 

After their meal they both sprawled out on the blanket, bodies aligned to make a T, with Anne’s head resting on Phillip’s stomach. He was content, the fresh air, food, and relative quiet had done wonders for his hangover. Anne had done wonders for everything else. He watched now as she pointed up towards the sky. 

“That one looks like a monkey riding a tricycle.” 

Phillip squinted, tilted his head left and then right. “It just looks like a cloud to me.” 

“That’s because you have no imagination.” She scoffed and he laughed, jostling her head slightly with the movement. 

“Okay what about that one.” Phillip pointed. “It looks a bit like a narwhal. Or maybe a deformed unicorn?” 

Anne sat up and gave him a sour look. “You can’t play anymore,” she said and reached over him to pluck a grape from the bowl resting on the edge of the blanket.

“Are you honestly still hungry?” He laughed, but truly he was impressed. After having watched her eat her way through breakfast, a snack, and most of the generous lunch the kitchen staff had provided.

“I’m a growing girl.” She stuck her tongue out, grabbed five more grapes and popped them all in her mouth at once. He arched an eyebrow at her. Her response was to lean over again, take the last remaining grape and feed it to him. 

Phillip remained perfectly still, arms tucked behind his head, and practically held his breath as the tips of her fingers barely brushed the curve of his lips. The moment was playful, but strangely intimate and neither of them took their eyes off the other. For a brief moment Phillip imagined what it would be like if he reached out and took her wrist, and pulled her down to him. What it would be like to kiss her in the warm afternoon sun, with the scent of roses in the air, and cotton candy clouds streaking across the sky. 

Then Anne shrieked, jumped up from the blanket and backed away. Phillip could only stare up at her in confusion.

“Something touched my foot!” she cried, pointing to her bare toes. Her sandals long ago scattered next to his shoes on the grass. 

Phillip sat up and peered at the edge of the blanket. He grinned when he saw what it was. “It’s just a garter snake,” he said. “We used to catch them when I was kid.” He reached out and picked up the little thing. It wasn’t even full grown. 

“Yeah, well, it can just stay over there.” Anne waved vaguely. 

“Oooh, the mighty Anne Wheeler, afraid of a little baby snake.” Phillip held it up and pouted at her. 

“You will keep it away from me, Phillip Carlyle. Or we can call W.D. and he can tell you what happened when he shoved a snake down the back of my dress when we were kids.” Her face darkened when Phillip started laughing. “He didn’t walk right for the rest of the day.” 

“Hold off on the violence, I’ll get rid of it.” Phillip stood up, the still wriggling snake in one hand. He walked a safe distance away from Anne, and set it free. Watching as it slithered off in the opposite direction. 

“It’s gone. See,” he held out his hands to her. 

“Thank you.” She adjusted the collar on her shirt, rolled back her shoulders, and acted as if she had just shrieked like she were one of the Barnum girls.

“Should we head back inside before we’re attacked by any more wild beasts?” He grinned at her. 

Anne slapped a hand to her chest, looking overly offended. “I nurse you back to health in your time of need, and you repay me by teasing me about my fear of snakes?” She sighed dramatically, threw her hands up in the air. 

Phillip caught one of her hands, took a small step closer. “I didn’t really thank you properly for last night. So thank you, Anne. For everything, no one’s ever done that for me.” He couldn’t really begin to explain his level of gratitude, even just for the sheer fact that her being there had meant he wasn’t alone. And he had meant it when he said he didn’t deserve her, he had known that since the first day he met her. It only became more apparent the more time he spent with.

Anne’s face softened, a small smile curving the corner of her mouth. She placed her free hand over his. “That’s what friends are for, right?” Something passed over her face, an emotion Phillip couldn’t name. But once again he wondered what it would be like to kiss her. 

The moment drug on, their hands linked and eyes locked on each other. Then there was a voice just beyond the roses. 

“Phillip, there you are!” His mother cried. “I’ve been calling you for an hour. We need you up at the house, they want some pictures before the rehearsal dinner and the groomsmen need to be present!” 

“Coming, mother.” Phillip smiled apologetically at Anne, ducked his head and withdrew his hand from hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also: ♪♪♪ whoooaaaAAA we're half way there! ♪♪♪ I can officially say this is the half way mark because guess who drafted the final chapter last night? That's right, this chick! 
> 
> And I had decided on lavender roses just because I think it's funny to include purple stuff because of Anne's trapeze costume. Though when I saw the meaning behind them I laughed my head off.
>
>> As with other roses, lavender roses have their own special meanings which have evolved over the years of their existence. The lavender rose is often a sign of enchantment and **love at first sight**. Those who have been **enraptured by feelings of love and adoration** have used lavender roses to express their romantic feelings and intentions. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this turned out kinda short, I decided to just go ahead and post it now. Also I love Friday the 13th so we'll celebrate with two chapters today!

Anne couldn’t help but feel out of place at the rehearsal dinner, and there were a plethora of reasons as to why. One she was currently fixated on was the fact that she was significantly underdressed. Which was made all the more noticeable to her by the simple fact that the dress she wore was the best she owned. Aside from the gown she would wear for the wedding, but that wasn’t _really_ hers.

Everyone else, she noted, was parading around in elegant cocktail dresses, with glittering jewels. In comparison Anne felt she looked better suited for a church potluck. She couldn’t keep her eyes from roaming over the other women, admiring how at ease they were in this world. She doubted she ever would be comfortable with it, not that she would ever be given the chance to. 

Next to her -- because thankfully they were at the same table -- Anne felt Phillip lean toward her. She caught a whiff of his cologne just as she felt his breath on the shell of her ear. 

“I think you look beautiful,” he told her. 

One day she would figure out how he always seemed to know when she needed rescuing. Even if it was just from her own thoughts. Maybe her face was just too easy to read? 

She cast him a shy smile, muttered a soft thank you. Sometimes she almost wished he wasn’t so considerate, because everytime he was it made her heart swell in her chest and then she would inevitably start to hope. And hope was foolish. 

Shaking all those thoughts from her head, Anne instead focused on the barrage of toasts and speeches taking place during the meal. Most were funny anecdotes about the couple, and their history together. Anne couldn’t help but glare daggers at Eddie every time he drew her attention. 

Someone in the bride’s party was relating a story about Heather, about the trials and errors of youth. A story about about one of Heather’s mistaken romances, and how it had made them all realize how perfect Eddie was for her. Slowly Anne realized it was an embellished version of what Heather had told her by the pool. 

Anne looked at Phillip, it seemed he had realized he was the subject of the story the same time she had. He was frozen, his water glass halfway to his mouth and his gaze on the table while he listened. As the story progressed, she watched his face shift from confusion to bemusement to one face particularly hilarious contortion she would forever call his ‘wtf face.’ 

 

When the bridesmaid finished her story, to a round of aww’s and golf claps from the crowd, Phillip sat down his glass and leaned into Anne. Once again his breath tickled her ear, and she could smell his cologne faintly. She tried to focus more on his words rather than how good he smelled. 

“I did unfortunately date Heather,” he said. “Casually, and it was closer to six months than a year; two of which she spent in Europe as a graduation present from her dad.”

“So it wasn’t true love?” Anne teased. Though she did feel a certain sense of relief knowing Heather hadn’t been completely truthful, the jealousy receding a bit. Those emotions did not deserve dwelling on, and Anne tried her best to shove them down.

“God no.” Phillip huffed a laugh, his warmth breath ghosting over her neck. “She spent most of it nagging me because I wouldn’t put by business degree to use, and work for my father. Then she hooked up with Eddie again, in my apartment I might add, and we broke up.” 

Anne turned her face to whisper to him. “They do seem… well matched.” 

“We could start a betting pool for how long it lasts. I’m putting all my money on three months or less,” he whispered just as Anne was reaching for her fork. Her hand slipped as she started laughing, knocking the fork and part of her dinner off the plate and directly onto her lap. The sauce staining the front of the skirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Phillip said, eyes going wide. 

“It’s okay. I’m just gonna go… clean up.” Anne stood, patted his shoulder and went to find the nearest bathroom. 

In the hall she was lucky enough to come across one of the waitstaff for the dinner. The young woman gave her a sympathetic look, pulling her to the kitchens to douse the stain in club soda. After a lot of dabbing and a bit of air drying by a warm stove, Anne’s dress was as good as new. She profusely thanked the young woman for her help, and left to return to the dinner. 

Outside the dining room Anne found her luck to still be a bit sour, when she noticed Eddie coming from the opposite direction. Where a bathroom was located, if she remembered correctly. 

“Oh, the kitten’s still prowling around I see.” He leaned back against the double wooden doors, right over the handles that would let her inside. “Come to threaten me again?”

Anne didn’t answer, instead crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. 

“Come on, Anne. I thought we were having fun?” he sneered. 

“I don’t think I like your idea of fun,” she said coolly. She still wanted to slap him for what he had done to Phillip, but she knew that wasn’t a remotely good idea. “Now if you’ll move, I’d like to get back before my dinner turns cold.” 

“By all means.” He pushed away from the door, gave her a mocking bow. “Gotta go babysit Phillip, right?”

Anne sent him the dirtiest look she could muster, and yanked open the door with so much force she nearly smacked Eddie in the face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Phillip swallows his tongue....

When Anne retook her seat, Phillip couldn’t help but notice a satisfied smile on her face. Or Eddie walking past their table, with a glare directed at Anne. 

Phillip looked at her, brows knitted together. “Something happen?” He jerked his chin toward Eddie at the main table.

“Nothing to worry about.” She smiled and turned her attention onto her meal. Phillip had noticed the death glares all night, and should have known Anne would figure out Eddie’s involvement in his... relapse. With his mind clearer, Phillip could admit that Eddie had played a large part in the whole thing. 

So truly Phillip wasn’t surprised that Anne was angry. Nor did her general protectiveness go unnoticed, but it wasn’t exactly surprising. Anne was protective of everyone she cared for, fiercely so. He had even watched her nearly deck a guy for catcalling dancers entering the theater. She was always ready to stand up for others, this was obviously no different. Phillip decided to take solace in the fact it meant she cared for him. Even if she might not care for him the same exact way he cared for her. Her friendship and support meant the world, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

One of the waiters stopped by their table, refilling glasses. Phillip put his hand over his glass, shook his head when the waiter nearly filled it with champagne for another toast. It was almost becoming second nature by that point, various waitstaff seeming to almost constantly being topping everyone off. 

Phillip looked up again, caught sight of Eddie across the room. He lifted up his champagne glass and toasted Phillip with it. Whatever game he was playing at, it was starting to grate on Phillip’s last nerve. Was Eddie really so desperate to reclaim the old days of boozing? That thought might have struck Phillip as sad if he weren’t so tired. 

Beside him, Anne seemed to follow his gaze. He caught her glaring at Eddie again from the corner of his eye. Underneath the table her hand found his, gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

_“And if it gets hard then I’ll be here to help.”_ He remembered her words from the previous night. Grateful and humbled.

The rest of the meal passed by rather uneventfully, and Phillip was happy for the short reprieve. Though his personal turmoil was only just beginning again, as he and Anne said their goodbyes to everyone late in the evening and returned to their room. 

That night after they had crawled into bed, Anne was the first to fall asleep. Nearly the second her eyes had closed she rolled towards Phillip, one leg sliding over both of his. It probably wasn’t the most honorable thing to do, but he let himself enjoy it. Enjoy the weight of her leg over his, her hand resting on his chest, and the way her breath tickled against his neck with every soft exhale. 

He lie there for awhile, in the dark, the only sound permeating the silence was Anne’s gentle breathing. There would be one more night after this, and then it would be back to New York and his lonely apartment with its empty, Anne-less bed. Phillip never knew he could love someone as much as he loved Anne. Yet he still found himself loving her more and more every single day. 

It terrified him. Anne terrified him, with her grace and goodness and tenacity. She was by far the most exceptional person he had ever met, and he never wanted to let her go. Only she wasn’t his to hold, except in these few stolen moments.

Phillip craned his neck, pressed a kiss against her forehead and finally let sleep take him. 

 

***

Sunday dawned clear and bright; a perfect day for a wedding. Phillip and Anne crept down to the kitchens early in the morning, stole a small breakfast and shared it in their room. He did notice that even in the early hours the estate was already a flurry of activity. Even more people, mainly on the bride’s side, had arrived for the rehearsal dinner, and now it seemed the usually spacious building was crammed full. 

After breakfast Phillip showered and shaved before Anne unceremoniously kicked him out of the bathroom, locking it so she could get ready. Phillip took the time to report for groomsmen duties, which as a late addition were thankfully few aside from some group photos. 

Eddie seemed nervous, jittery even, and hardly paid much mind to Phillip. That suited Phillip just fine.

When it was time for people to start taking their seats before the wedding, Phillip found his way back to their room to retrieve Anne. He would have to be up front for the ceremony, but he could at least walk Anne to her seat. Stopping before the door, he gave a gentle knock to alert her to his presence. 

“Anne? Are you ready?”

“Do not open that door!” she cried on the other side. He obeyed the command, waiting as patiently as he could. After several long moments her voice sounded again, “Now you can open it.” 

He was laughing as he swung it open, watching as it slowly revealed Anne standing on the other side like a piece of art come to life. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. 

Her dress showed off a wealth of smooth, brown skin; her toned arms bare, a deep cut in the bodice exposing a clean line from neck to chest. His eyes traveled down to the slit in the skirt, leg peeking past the folds of fabric. She had piled her hair on top of her head, the curls spilling over. With her hair up it exposed her graceful neck and gave a perfect view of the cutout in the back when she turned around. Her makeup was flawless, her entire face glowing when she smiled at him. 

“What do you think?” she asked, doing another turn for good measure. 

Had Phillip been able to speak, or even form a single coherent thought, he would have said she was extraordinary. As it was he could only dimly think that if brains could actually short circuit, this is what it would be like.

“Phillip?” Anne walked toward him and peered down at his face worriedly, her high heels adding a few extra inches to her already statuesque height. 

He knew he had to say something, he also knew he had to breathe at some point as well. Phillip forced himself to suck in a deep breath, tried to get his motor skills working again. A litany of compliments started flitting through his brain, poetic verses he wanted to spout off in hopes of pleasing of her. 

Unfortunately when he finally managed to open his mouth the only thing that came out was an inarticulate, “hn?”

Anne laughed, her face lighting up with it. “That good, huh? I’m glad you like the dress, seeing as you’re the one who paid for it. Thank you again, by the way.” 

“Thank _you_ ,” he mumbled, shook himself like a wet dog. “I mean… you look stunning.” 

She ducked her head a little, almost bashful as a shy smile curved her lips. “Let’s go, we shouldn’t be late.” Anne linked her arm with his, pulling him out of the room. 

Phillip walked Anne to her seat, placed a kiss on her cheek when he noticed several eyes were on them. Not that he blamed them, it was difficult not to admire Anne on a normal day let alone when she looked like a goddess made real. Hesitantly he left to join the rest of the groomsmen. 

When the ceremony finally started, Phillip knew it was a requirement to watch the bride as she walked down the aisle. However, he only had eyes for Anne.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is _a lot_ of action....

The ceremony had been beautiful, taking place in the ballroom -- who knew they even had a ballroom? -- just as the sun was setting, visible through the floor to ceiling windows that faced the west. The reception took place outside, near the gardens. The pavilion they had set up the day before was covered in string lights, with white linen dining tables and a dance floor for after the meal. 

Dinner was a splendid affair, course upon course of some of the most delicious food Anne had ever eaten. And for the first time since she had arrived at the Carlyle Estate, Anne didn’t feel completely out of place. The dress was almost like a suit of armor, something to protect her from the whispers and judging glances. She felt especially at ease whenever Phillip looked at her, his eyes soft and almost awed. She had never felt more beautiful. 

At the end of the meal, the tables were cleared and the music changed from soft classical to something more upbeat. People started crowding the dance floor, the lights glittering as the stars came out in the sky. Anne marveled at the grandeur of it all, but also silently vowed when she got married it would be tiny. She imagined her mother, grandmother, and W.D would be there, of course. Beyond that it wouldn’t much matter, anyone Phil-- Anne forced her thought to a full stop, shocked at herself. She was not planning her wedding to Phillip. She was not a silly little school girl with a crush. Truly, she wasn’t because it wasn’t a simple crush. If it were, she could have easily handled it. Being in love with Phillip was far more complicated. 

She was pulled from her scattered thoughts when someone brushed her arm with theirs. Without looking she knew it was Phillip. 

“Will you save me a dance?” he asked. “It appears as an ‘under groomsman’ I am regulated to spinning the flower girl and junior bridesmaids around on the dance floor.” 

That roused a giggle out of Anne. “Well, you do have plenty of experience between Helen and Caroline.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Still would rather dance with you though.” 

“I’ll wait. Though in the meantime I might try sneaking into the kitchens for more cake.” 

“Do it, no one will know.” In the distance a trio of high pitched voices called Phillip’s name, beckoning him to the dance floor. 

“Duty calls.” He sighed, cast her a tired look.

Anne laughed as she waved goodbye, then she looked around to see if anyone was watching before sneaking off toward the doors of the ballroom, and then onto the kitchens. Anne found there was more than enough cake to be had and she treated herself to two extra slices. 

Happy and sated, Anne eventually made her way unhurriedly back to the reception. She wondered if Phillip would be free for a dance when she returned, and she focused on that instead of her ridiculous, fanciful thoughts from earlier. Anne entered the darkened ballroom, could just barely make out the white pavilion and glittering lights through the French doors opposite of her. 

“Where have you been prowling, kitten?” 

Heaving a sigh, Anne turned to find Eddie sat in one of the remaining chairs from the ceremony. Even in the dim light she could tell he was drunk. 

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” she said.

“It’s my wedding. It’s my business.” 

“It might be your wedding, but that doesn’t make you master of the house.” 

He stood up, made his unsteady way toward her. “I’m more master than you are.” The way he spoke, rankled her. The way he leered, disgusted her. 

“I’m not playing this game,” she said and turned to leave. 

“You know we could have some fun,” he called. Anne told herself she wouldn’t response, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “Angry, filthy sex. Don’t tell me it’s not a little tempting.” 

Anne let her face wrinkle in disgust at the thought. She wanted nothing more than to escape, the long walk to the doors and the safety of outside seemed to take forever, as if time had slowed. 

She thought she might actually cry when saw Phillip silhouetted in the doorway. The relief she felt was almost tangible, and she let herself relax marginally with the knowledge that she was no longer alone with Eddie in the darkened room.

“Anne?” he said, stepping inside. 

“Oh, is it Philly Boy?” Eddie said, suddenly all too close.

Phillip quickly crossed to her, gently laid his hand on her back. “What’s going on?” he asked, his focus solely on her. 

“Just having a little chat,” Eddie cut in before Anne could find her voice. 

“And by the looks of it, Anne is uncomfortable. So we’ll be going back to the party.” Anne turned with Phillip, his hand still a reassuring warmth on her back, and sighed. 

“Hey, Phil? Maybe we should make a thing of it? Heading into the city to find cheap actresses for a roll in the hay. I mean you’re practically a changed man over it.” 

Phillip came to a sudden halt, breathing heavily through his nose. Anne tried to get him to keep walking, but instead he turned back Eddie with a dark look clouding his face. “You’re drunk and need to stop talking,” he warned. 

“Wait, maybe that’s the problem?” Eddie said, sauntering up to them. Phillip took a step forward, as if instinctively putting himself directly between Anne and Eddie. “You’re not getting laid.” 

“You really need to shut up now,” Phillip said.

“Don’t worry kitten, if he can’t scratch your itch I bet I can.”

“I swear to god, Eddie. Don’t say one more word.” 

“What? You never used to care about sharing, Phil. And besides,” he drawled and glanced over Phillip’s shoulder squarely at Anne. “Maybe a good fuck will finally calm down her uppity--” The words were cut off as Phillip’s fist slammed into Eddie’s jaw, sending him reeling back a couple steps. 

“Don’t you fucking talk to her like that,” Phillip spat. “Don’t you talk to her all! You need to turn around and sober up, you’re a mess.” 

“You’re a fine one to talk. All it takes is one sip and you’re off the wagon, as sloppy as ever.” Then it was Eddie’s turn to take a swing, and before Anne could even cry out they were brawling. 

She had no one idea what to do, but apparently someone had heard her distressed cry because soon enough there were waiters and groomsmen pouring into the ballroom, the lights sprang to life and Phillip and Eddie were hauled apart. Phillip had a small cut below his eye, while Eddie was decidedly worse for the wear with a split lip, bloody nose, and a rapidly bruising eye. Anne tried not to feel too smug over that fact. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Phillip’s father roared, startling Anne. He always seemed so reserved, she hadn’t known he could carry such gravity. 

“Eddie!” Heather came racing into the room and crouched next to him sat on a chair, her white dress pooling around her. “What happened?” 

“Ask Phillip.” He jerked his chin, dabbing at his lip. 

Heather turned watery eyes on him. “Phillip, why are you trying to ruin my wedding?” 

“Me?” he asked, laughed incredulously. “I’d be more interested in the fact that your husband of a couple hours was just vulgarly harassing _my_ girlfriend. _A good fuck_ , isn’t that what you said Eddie?” 

“Phillip, that’s enough,” he father said. “Go cool off, and we’ll sort out this later.”

“No. It’s not enough.” Phillip shook his head and looked back at Eddie. “That split lip is the least you deserve, after everything. And while I might be an alcoholic, at least I can fucking admit it.”

If anyone had anything else to add, they wisely kept quiet. Even Phillip’s father. When he turned around, Anne quickly scrambled to Phillip’s side and took his hand. For his reasurrace or hers, she couldn’t really say. He gave her a tight smile, and together they walked out of the ballroom. 

 

***

 

“I’m sorry,” Phillip said, face twitching while Anne dabbed at his cut. It wasn’t too deep, and she thought it would heal on its own. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“If I hadn’t brought you here, you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of it.” He arched his eyebrows, mouth twisting in an apologetic way. 

“It was my choice to come along, and there’s no way you could’ve known he would be like that.” She smiled slowly. “Besides, at least I got to see you punch him.” 

He laughed, and Anne smiled a little wider. 

She stood up, went to put away the things she had used to clean his face. They were still in their wedding clothes, though they had both kicked off their shoes, and Phillip’s jacket and tie were flung over a chair. When she returned Phillip grabbed her hand, looked up at her from his perch on the edge of the bed.

“I really am sorry. Drunk or not, he absolutely had no excuse to treat you that way.” 

“Thank you for defending my honor,” she said with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, and she knew he still felt guilty. 

Anne knelt down, trying to catch his eye. “I mean it.” With that she rocked up, her hands splayed on his thighs for balance, and kissed him. 

It was probably selfish and it was most definitely stupid, but it felt too nice for her care. He was obviously shocked, sat in a state of confusion as she pressed her lips to his. Although when pulled back after a short time, he followed her. 

They were so close their lips touched in the whisper of a kiss. Anne was sure his eyes had never looked bluer as they locked with hers. Phillip stared at her, a question in his eyes. This time she thought she could answer it. He moved his head slightly, their lips barely caressing and his nose nuzzling hers, then just like he was kissing her. Anne wound her arms around his neck as Phillip hauled her onto his lap, one hand flat against her bared back while the other cradled her jaw.

Phillip’s lips were soft and insistent and hungry. He kissed her like he could never get enough of her. And before too long they were tumbling back against the bed, Anne straddling Phillip’s hips and his hands on her thighs. The kiss intensified, Anne nipped his lower lip and his fingers raked over hips, underneath the folds of her skirt. The next thing she knew they had switched positions, and Anne sank into the mattress as Phillip’s weight settled over her. She hooked a leg around his waist, dug her fingers into his hair. 

The only sound in the room was the rustle of clothing and the sound of their heavy, muffled breathing while they kissed. Anne had never wanted anything more than she wanted Phillip in that perfect, heady moment. Only she needed him to want it too; needed him to want her in the exact way she desperately wanted him. 

“No,” she murmured, the word escaping her on a sigh, and turned her head from his kiss. The haze of lust was already starting to fade, her thoughts becoming clearer. She loved Phillip and right then all she wanted was for him to love her back. 

As soon as she spoke, Phillip stopped and pulled away. He looked down at her with wide, stricken eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, still panting. “I shouldn’t hav--I’m so sorry.” 

There was no time for Anne to respond as he withdrew from her, moving hastily as if he had been burned. All he could do was stammer and scramble for his shoes. He left with another breathless apology. 

It took Anne an inordinate amount of time to slow her racing heart, to calm her erratic breath. When she finally did, she felt the sting of tears and instead of giving in, she got up to wash her face. 

That night when Anne crawled into bed she found it seemed too big, the space next to her stretching out into nothingness. Without Phillip there the room was too empty, too quiet, and sleep eluded her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Anne's portion got super long, and this is technically 10B masquerading as chapter 11. Before we start I would like to issue a formal apology to one Anne wheeler....

Anne got up early, showered, and straightened up both their things. Regardless of anything else, they would be leaving later that day. Once everything was in order, and Anne felt up for the task, she went looking for Phillip. She wanted to make things right, get it all settled before they were stuck in a car together for several hours. 

More importantly she wanted to fix it so that her heart would stop aching. The night before had simultaneously been the best and worst moment in her life. She had let her feelings gets out of hand and things had progressed too far, too fast. She worried what Phillip thought, worried that whatever friendship they had was now gone. To be tossed aside in the ensuing awkwardness. 

It was still early enough that there weren’t many people about, she saw staff but hardly any guests. Everyone was obviously still sleeping off the previous night’s festivities. How she envied them. 

In her search for Phillip, Anne instead found Mr. Carlyle. Or maybe he had found her?

“Good morning, Miss Wheeler. I was hoping we could talk?” 

She nodded her agreement, followed him down a short hallway to his spartan office, all dark polished wood and no personal touches. He offered her a seat, but she chose to remain standing. She wasn’t surprised Mr. Carlyle wanted to talk, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

“Obviously we need to speak after all that’s happen,” he said, taking a seat behind his desk. “But if you would allow me to cut right to the chase?” 

“Of course.” 

He proceeded to open one of his drawers, pulled out a thin leather book of some sort and placed it before him. He took the fountain pen out of its older on the desk, and flipped open the front cover. When he looked at her it was with bland, blue eyes that reminded her nothing of Phillip’s.

“How much?” he asked, voice light as if he were discussing the weather. 

Anne recoiled from him, eyes going wide. “You want to buy me off to excuse Eddie’s behavior?” 

“No, you misunderstand me, Miss Wheeler,” he said, setting his pen aside and lacing his fingers together. “This has nothing to do with Edward, I’m certain he got what he deserved. This is in regards to Phillip.” 

She shook head, offended and confused. “What are you saying?”

“What I mean is that while I’m sure this entire fling has been enjoyable for you both, it’s now time for you to move on.”

“Move on? You can’t seriously be suggesting what I think you are.” She searched his face and only found cool indifference, it was like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. 

“It’s only been a few months, you’ve had your little fun. Now it’s time to step back and let Phillip concentrate on his responsibilities, return to his rightful place.” 

“Step back, just like that?” She snapped her fingers, incredulous. “Is it so absurd to you that I might actually love him? That I wouldn’t want to leave him?” It was the first time she had admitted her feelings out loud, and Phillip wouldn’t even know. Did she even want him to?

“I think we both know people of your type all have their price, Miss Wheeler.” Mr. Carlyle remained passive, perfectly calm. Anne hated him for it. She felt her blood boiling as she stared him down. 

“My type? And what type is that, Mr. Carlyle? Jezabels, gold diggers, is that what you think I am?” 

“No. Your type as in the poor type.” He picked up his pen again, looked down at the checkbook. “Now, give me a number and it will be yours.” 

“Where is Phillip? I want to talk to him, I want him to know what you’re doing.” 

Mr. Carlyle looked up at her, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “Phillip and I have… an understanding.” 

“What does that mean?” A feeling of dread settled over her, heavy and oppressive like she was under water, being pulled down.

“It means you have been a distraction to him, Miss Wheeler, and that ends now.”

For a moment all Anne could hear was a whirring in her ears, muffling everything around her. She bit her cheek to keep from crying, focused on slowing down her breathing. There was no way Phillip would have agreed to this, he wouldn’t treat her like a plaything to be bought off. 

Anne wrapped her arms around her waist, searching for any bit of comfort and protection she could. Then she thought of the night before, the look on his face when she said no…. he wasn’t like that. He wasn’t. Yet in that moment he was nowhere to be found, instead letting his father do to the dirty work. The weight of betrayal settled in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“I’ll go,” Anne said, proud that her voice only shook a little. “But I won’t take one cent from you. I don’t want your filthy bribe money.” 

“Suit yourself.” Mr. Carlyle calmly replaced the checkbook back in the drawer, the pen to its holder. “I assume you can manage to find your way home?” 

She didn’t respond, instead fleeing the office and racing back to the still empty lilac room to retrieve her things before contacting the nearest service that would take her to the bus station. Anne glanced around the room before she left, not wanting to leave a trace behind. Then she was clambering downstairs where a butler intercepted her, guiding her discreetly to the servant’s entrance instead of the main one. 

 

***

 

Anne felt numb the entire bus ride back to New York. Nothing made sense anymore. The tides could change, and time could start running backwards for all she knew or cared. She thought of warning W.D. that she would be home early, but she didn’t want to answer his questions just yet. Instead she brought up Phillip’s contact information, rashly blocking his number and then deleting it. It helped to assuage her anger, at least for a brief moment; then she was left instead with a hollowness inside her chest, and the overwhelming urge to cry. 

It seemed like she had been traveling for days, but it wasn’t even noon when her bus pulled into the city terminal. From there it was a taxi back to her apartment building. Walking up the steps, like she had so many times before, Anne felt like she had aged twenty years in the span of a few days.

Coming to a stop before her apartment door, she dug around in her purse for her key, and fitted it into the lock. She was stopped by the chain on the door. 

“W.D?” she called.

“Anne? You’re early, I wasn’t expecting you and lover boy until tonight.” His voice carried from the kitchen, and he hurried out licking his thumb absently.

She let him shut the door, listened closely as he slid the chain free. When the door opened again Anne launched herself at W.D. Stunned as he was by the suddenness of it all, he still managed to wrap her up in an confused hug. 

“You were right,” she sobbed, his words from only a couple days prior suddenly playing through her mind. _“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”_

But she had gotten hurt, and it was worse than any other pain she had ever felt in her life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay kids here's the real chapter 11.

Watching the sunrise from the bow of the sailboat, Phillip could still feel Anne’s lips on his. Could still feel her hands in his hair, and the weight of--he forced his mind to stop there. The moment had been beyond anything he had imagined, kissing Anne Wheeler had felt so completely right. Then it had gone so incredibly wrong. 

After he had left their room, Phillip had skulked around the grounds to avoid partygoers and staff alike. He eventually made it to the dock, which had been thankfully devoid of people. That night he had stretched out on the seats with one of the scratchy blankets from the storage compartment, and watched the stars. He picked out constellations, recited their names and mythology, and tried not to think about Anne. It had worked for a short time. 

So many things happened…. he still wasn’t entirely sure what all had happened, his mind a fog. Anne had kissed him but she had been grateful, and maybe a little vulnerable. He had kissed her back, and he’d had no intention of stopping. What did that mean after everything; after Eddie? 

What did that mean to Anne? 

Phillip spent a sleepless night on the boat, a thousand questions whirling around his brain and no answers forthcoming. Although he did know one thing: he had to make it right. He would do whatever it took to make things right with Anne. With the rising sun casting a warm glow over the water, making the ripples look like glittering strands of gold, Phillip imagined the task seemed a little easier. Though the moment he turned back toward the estate, he realized that was a lie. 

Since it was still so early, Phillip went to the library to wait until he was certain Anne would be awake. Then they could talk, and he would attempt to salvage their friendship. He milled around the room, looking over book titles and peeking inside when something caught his interest, only to return it to the shelf a minute later. 

For the second time in so many days, Phillip was surprised when his father appeared without warning. At least this time it seemed his father was just as surprised. 

“Phillip,” he said, looking over his attire: a wrinkled tuxedo shirt and pants, sans jacket and tie. Hair mussed from a sleepless night, and Anne’s fingers. “No need to ask if you’ve slept.” 

“No.” Phillip shook his head. “I… needed time alone.” 

“What about Anne?”

“Asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her.” Which was the truth. Not that Phillip had any qualms lying to his father, it just seemed easier not to at the moment.

His father seemed to think for a moment, pondering over an idea. “Your mother is overseeing some household affairs after everything. Why don’t you go lie down in our room? I’ll let your mother know not to disturb you.” 

The exhaustion seemed to hit Phillip all at once, until he felt weary down to his bones. The thought of closing his eyes for even just a minute sounded beyond wonderful, so he found himself agreeing. He started to leave, but stopped and looked back at his father.

“If you see Anne, would you let her know where I am?” He spared a thought for his cell phone, still in his tuxedo jacket slung over a chair in the corner of their room. 

His father nodded. “Don’t worry, Phillip. I’ll speak with Anne when I see her.” 

Phillip gave him a small smile, “Thank you.” Then he continued on to his parents room. Pushing the door open he found everything was immaculate when he stepped inside, and blissfully quiet. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on one side of the bed. He was asleep almost the second his head hit the pillow.

 

***

 

When Phillip woke, he couldn’t say he felt refreshed. In fact he felt just as bad as if he had a hangover. Groggy, and disoriented he sat up and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Blinked several times to sort out the blurry lines of the clock face. 

A four hour nap, no wonder he felt like shit. 

He bent and put on his shoes, then snuck into his parents’ bathroom to splash his face with cool water and steal their mouthwash. After he completed those tasks he felt moderately human again, and went to find Anne. Now at a more reasonable hour, the house was starting to wake up. People beginning to emerge from their rooms to find coffee in order to ease their hangovers. Phillip could say with perfect honesty, he didn’t envy them one bit. 

Before Phillip made it to the stairs leading to the west wing, he once again ran into his father. He inclined his head toward Phillip.

“Ah, I see you’re up. Did you sleep?”

“I did. Thank you, again.” He paused before asking, “did you ever see Anne?”

“Yes, she and I had talk.” 

Phillip nodded, he knew that he and his father would have to have a talk as well. After what happened at the reception the previous night, but that could wait. Talking to Anne was his priority at the moment. “Do you know where she is?” 

“She’s left, Phillip.” 

That couldn’t be right. Anne wouldn’t leave without talking to him, would she? Everything about the night before replayed in his head, as it had for most of the time since. Had he ruined things that much? 

“Did she say why?” Phillip asked when he found his voice.

“As I said, she and I had a talk. In the end she saw things my way,” his father said. 

Phillip’s gaze snapped up to his father’s eyes, face clouding. “What did you say to her?” 

“What I have said to you: it’s time for you to come home and focus on your responsibilities.” 

While that sounded like something his father would do, Phillip didn’t buy any of it for one second. His father’s mouth had twitched. It was the only tell he had and it meant it was lying, or at least withholding an important truth. 

“What did you say to her?” he repeated, voice low. 

His father pursed his lips, stood up a little straighter. “Given the circumstances, I offered her some money. For her troubles.” 

“So in your unfailing wisdom you decided to treat her like she’s nothing? Like she meant nothing?” Phillip roared. How had this happened, why hadn’t Anne come to him?

Why _hadn’t_ Anne come to him?

“What else did you tell her? What did you say about me?” 

“I informed her that we had an agreement.”

“So you let her believe that I had something to do with it?” No wonder Anne had left. Phillip clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack, his hands fisted tightly at his sides, knuckles aching and bruised after his fight with Eddie. 

“You have to try to see this from my side--”

“I don’t have to do anything! You’re the one meddling in my life, trying to buy off the woman I love, for what? To save face? To force me back into the fold?” Phillip was livid, white hot anger rolling off him in waves. 

His father was just as angry, but his was like icy cold. Snapping like frostbite. “I’m doing what’s best for you, boy. It's as I told the other day: the shine will fade. I am simply saving you the trouble.” 

“You’re right, father. You have saved me the trouble.” Phillip closed the distance between them, looked his father square in the eye. “Because I’m done. I’m done with you and this family.” 

“You can’t mean that.”

“I can, and I do. I want nothing to do with any of you ever again.” 

“You are a Carlyle, and you cannot simply turn your back on that. Not for some common whore,” he sneered. Before Phillip really knew what was happening, he had swung out at his father. The punch didn’t have the same force as he used with Eddie, but his father’s shock was all the same. He looked at Phillip with wide, startled eyes, clutching his rapidly reddening cheek. 

“Watch me.” Phillip turned on his heel and stalked away. 

He knew he wouldn’t have much time before he faced the full wrath of his father, so Phillip hurried upstairs to get his things. The room was empty, of course, left in such a tidy way it was like Anne hadn’t even been there. Or so it seemed until he saw the dress bag still hanging in the closet. Of course she had left that behind. He changed quickly, surprised to see his things already taken care of. He found his cell phone in his tuxedo jacket and tried calling Anne, only to realize he had been blocked. 

Sighing heavily, Phillip looked up the local taxi service and contacted them for a ride. Picking up his bag, he made sure to grab the dress on the way out, leaving behind the key to the Ferrari and the few items he had that tied him to his father. Then he left the estate for the final time. He didn’t even give it a second glance when the taxi pulled away, instead he focused on a way he could hopefully mend things with Anne. 

 

***

It might have been a little cowardly to try to speak to W.D. when there was a witness around, but Phillip was also fairly certain a witness wouldn’t stop W.D. from punching him if he really felt like it. Besides, the timing was mostly down to circumstance. Between W.D. staying home the first few nights after the Hamptons, presumably with Anne since no one had said otherwise, and Phillip attending AA meetings daily for peace of mind, there hadn’t been much of an overlap in their schedules. 

It had been five days since Phillip’s return from the Hamptons. Five days since he had told his father to shove it, and just two days since he had received a notarized letter from the family attorney, printed on thick legal paper stating that he was no longer written into the will. Phillip had known it was coming, and had promptly fed the paper into the shredder. 

It had been six days since he had seen Anne, and the only image of her that his brain would supply was the way he had last saw her; stretched out on the bed, eyes hooded and lips parted. His mind tortured him with it, along with the knowledge that she hated him. And rightfully so. 

That night Phillip waited until most everyone was gone after the show, W.D. only trailing behind while he chatted with Lettie on the way out. That seemed as good of opportunity as any.

“W.D?” Phillip called, stopping a few feet from where he stood with Lettie.

Immediately W.D. whipped his head towards Phillip, turned to face him with his legs braced apart and arms crossed. “If you’re gonna ask about Anne, don’t. You lost that right the second you decided to let daddy try and buy her off.”

“I didn’t let him to do anything. I had no idea.” Phillip ran a hand through his hair. “You probably won’t even believe me, but I swear I had no hand in it.”

W.D’s stance relaxed a little, but only a little. Phillip took that as a sign that he was at least willing to listen for the time being. 

“I would never treat Anne that way. The second I found out, I told my dad I was done and I walked out. He even sent a letter officially disowning me. You can ask P.T., he watched me shred it.” 

“All right,” W.D. said slowly. “So you’re not a complete asshole. Now I suppose you want a cookie for giving up the fancy life? You think it’s a trade off; give up the money and get Anne instead?”

“No… God, no. It’s not like that.” 

“Then what’s it like, Carlyle?” W.D. arched his eyebrows. “What do you want?” 

Phillip knew what he wanted, he also knew he didn’t rightfully deserve it. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you: I want Anne. I want her my life, in whatever capacity she’ll allow. Even if it’s just as an employee and the guy who signs the paychecks.” 

He paused, hoped he didn’t sound too selfish in all that he was asking. “I know I messed up our friendship, and I’m not going to push her. I just want to tell her the truth, I don't think that's too much to ask.” 

W.D. let out a slow breath, ran his tongue over his teeth as he mulled everything over. He glanced at Lettie, who nodded encouragingly. She had been the only other person besides P.T. to see Phillip wallowing after the Hamptons. It was nice someone was on his side. 

“Heaven help me, I believe you.” W.D. relaxed his stance completely, dropping his arms. “Okay, so how are we gonna get Anne to talk to you? Because right now she barely even gets out of bed.” 

That wasn’t what Phillip had been expecting to hear. The entire time he had pictured her anger, strong and fierce, churning like a raging sea and ready to swallow him whole. He had never imagined her sadness, her deep level of hurt. In that moment he knew he truly had been a coward. Because the idea of angering her was far easier to stomach than the idea of hurting her. 

Phillip felt sick, and once again wondered how he was going to make it all okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't intend for Phillip to be so "talk shit (about Anne) get hit", but here we are. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> And we're so close to the end! Will Phillip be able to un-fuck this? FIND OUT IN THE EXCITING CONCLUSION (!?).... out sometime soon (tomorrow).


	13. Chapter 13

“I don’t wanna go,” Anne said. She was curled up in bed, like she had been for better part of a week, pouting at W.D. 

“Well tough, you need to talk to P.T. He is your boss, and mine too.” 

What if _he’s_ there? She wanted to ask, but didn’t. The question still hung in the air regardless, the proverbial elephant in the room. 

W.D. sighed. “You’ll have to see him eventually, unless you quit. Even then you’ll still need to talk to P.T.” 

It made sense Barnum wanted to see her, she hadn’t been into work for nearly two works between the wedding and the fallout, and she could only ignore his calls for so long. But the thought of going to the theater made her heart feel so heavy inside her chest. Everything about it reminded her of Phillip; was some extension of him. Then again the idea of never going back, of moving onto some other job was just as devastating.

The worst part of it all was that she wanted so badly to be angry with Phillip, and a small part of her was, nursing that sting of betrayal. Mostly, though, she just missed him. Longed for the small pocket of time when things had been good, and maybe strangely hopeful. She wanted to go back to the moment when they were kissing and swallow down her murmured ‘no.’ Because even if he didn’t love her like she loved him, in that moment he had wanted her and she still wanted him. 

What a stupid, stupid girl she was. 

“I don’t know how to do this, W.D,” she whispered.

“You’re hurting, I know.” He reached out, laid a comforting hand on Anne’s shoulder. “But wallowing isn’t going to help you. So come on, get up and have a shower. Then you can meet with P.T.” 

Anne nodded, already dreading the effort of it all, but W.D. was right. Wallowing in her broken heart wasn’t doing her, or anyone else, any favors. So she threw back the blankets and walked to the bathroom for a hot shower. Once she was dressed, she left the apartment and headed to the theater. 

 

***

 

It was dark and eerily quiet inside the building, no one around on their day off. Anne crept inside, slowly making her way to the stage and P.T’s office up the stairs on the other side. The stage was faintly lit up with a few wayward lights, enough for her to see where she was going. 

Enough for her to see Phillip waiting by stage left. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d come if I asked,” he explained when she glared at him. 

“And you would’ve been right.” Anne spun on her heel, ready to run out of there. How could W.D. have tricked her like that? Had he known? Thinking of the strange look he had given her before she left the apartment told Anne the answer was yes, and that new betrayal made a rock settle in the pit of her stomach.

Before she could leave, Phillip reached out quickly and caught her hand. His fingers were warm, his palm a little clammy. 

“I know this is asking a lot, but will you please just listen to me for one minute? That’s all. One minute.” 

Anne took a deep breath before she looked at Phillip. He silently pleaded with her, and she realized she couldn’t bring herself to say no. So she dug her phone out of her bag, pulled up the timer and set it. She held it up for Phillip to see.

“Go,” she said and hit start. 

“I am so incredibly sorry for what my father said and did, and I know nothing I can do will ever makes amends for that. But I need you to know that I had nothing to do with it--”

“But your father said…?”

“I know what he said, but he was lying.” Phillip took a step closer to her, face earnest. “I hadn’t been to bed that night, I couldn’t sleep… after. When he saw me he told me to go to lie down. So I did. And when I woke up you were already gone. I had no clue what he was planning, if I had I would have stopped him. Or left with you. I should’ve known it was trouble the moment he showed me any concern.” 

They stared at each other, only breaking their gaze when her phone started beeping, the timer up. Anne switched it off, shoved it back in her bag, and looked down at her feet. She believed him, for better or worse she believed him. At least in that regard, but that didn’t mean everything was fixed. 

She was keenly aware of Phillip taking a step back again. “I just wanted you to know the truth. And I’m done with them. All of them.” 

Anne finally looked up at that. “What do you mean?” 

“I walked out, I’m not part of that world anymore. I haven’t been for a long time. Then my father made it official, I’ve been disowned.” He laughed, a little nervous, but mostly amused. “You don’t have to forgive or even like me, Anne. Not after everything. But I hope you’ll stay on, the theater will always be your home.” 

“That’s it?” Anne asked. Emotions swirled together in a tangled mess, she was angry and hurt and confused. Mostly she was tired. “So it really meant nothing then? The whole weekend, all those moments... the kiss? It meant nothing to you?” 

His head snapped up, eyes locking onto her eyes and mouth twisting in regret. “Anne, that’s not--”

“Tell me the truth, Phillip. I deserve it. All of it.” 

Phillip looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer. He swallowed thickly and shut his eyes, shoved his hands into his pockets. There was a long, pregnant pause that seemed to fill up the entire theater and Anne thought he wouldn’t answer. Wouldn’t give her at least that much. 

“It meant everything,” he finally whispered. When he opened his eyes again, he looked exhausted. She could see now the dark circles under his eyes, like they were bruised, and his usually proud carriage was stooped, shoulders sagging. He looked defeated. 

“ _You_ , mean everything,” Phillip said more firmly. He sighed and closed his eyes again while he spoke, eyebrows drawn tightly together as if bracing himself for her reaction. “I’ve been hopelessly, stupidly in love with you since the day we met. Spending all that time with you, trusting you and letting you in. Even just waking up next to you… it was all I ever wanted.” 

Sad blue eyes blinked open, met hers unwaveringly. “Anne, you are all I have ever wanted. And there is the truth. All of it.” 

“Do you mean that?” she asked. 

“I would never lie to you. I know I haven’t been as forthright as I could’ve been, but I was scared. You scared me, you still scare.” He shrugged, pressed his lips together. “I don’t-I don’t know how to love someone this much.” 

Anne let her eyes drift shut, so much seemed to slide into place in that moment. She wondered how they both could have been so blind, so stupid. That would be something to think on at another time, her focus instead shifting to the realization that Phillip _did_ love her. She could feel her heart skip a beat inside her chest, fluttering like a bird. Her lips parted as she tried to pull in a deep breath, eyes burning with tears. For a brief, fantastical moment she thought could fly if someone asked her to. 

Opening her eyes again, Anne dropped her purse and crossed to Phillip in a rush. She impulsively grabbed his face with both hands, like she had wanted to do since their first night in that ridiculous lilac room, and kissed him hard. He was shocked by the force, one foot rocking back to steady himself. 

Then slowly, hesitant, as if he were afraid it might all disappear in an instant, Phillip’s arms wrapped around her waist and he returned the kiss. After a long moment Anne started to pull away, and just like the first time, Phillip’s lips followed hers like a magnet. Until she was leaning back so far, his arms were the only thing keeping her from tipping over all the way. 

She smiled, traced gentle fingers down the side of his dazed face and pressed her forehead to his. “I love you too,” she said on an exhale. "More than I can put into words."

“You do?” Phillip pulled back just enough to look at her, his face adorably bewildered. Anne found herself making a ridiculous cooing noise in the back of her throat.

She nodded. “I think you should kiss me again.”

“I might not stop if I do.” 

“Then don’t.” Anne grinned and craned her neck in order to meet his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait kids, there's more! Epilogue coming soon! :D :D :D


	14. Epilogue

The morning sun was just starting to peek through the hastily closed drapes of the small bedroom, bathing everything in a soft, warm light. A trail of discarded clothing wound its way from the door, clearly marking the path of its owners toward the bed sat in the opposite corner of the room. 

The floor surrounding the bed was a pile of forgotten pillows and bunched blankets, while the two occupants huddled together under the sheets. Anne rested her head on Phillip’s chest, tracing absent designs along his rib cage, while his fingers ghosted up and down her back. 

“What about Napa?” Phillip asked.

“Maybe,” was the sing-song reply. The tone clearly indicated it would be at the bottom of the maybe list. Obviously not a winner. 

He paused for a moment, glanced down at the top of Anne’s head with a sly grin, “Cancun?” 

She sat up, indignant. “Definitely not.” 

“Alright, and what do you suggest? Since it seems your tastes are so discerning?” he asked with a teasing look. 

Anne knelt next to him on the bed, soft brown skin glowing in the golden sunlight. Her cascade of thick curls curtained them both when she bent forward and kissed him. “Ask me the other way, and I’ll tell you,” she said against his mouth. 

Phillip laughed while she gave him a catlike grin. Instead of speaking he sat up slightly, hooked an arm around her legs and yanked until she tumbled back against the bed with a delighted shriek. He kissed his way up her stomach, over her chest, and continued onto her neck. Only getting slightly distracted at her pulse point, and the way her heart rate jumped under his lips. Eventually, achingly slow, he made his way to her chin and then finally his lips found hers.

“Where do you want to go for your honeymoon, Mrs. Carlyle?” he asked between kisses. Anne had insisted on being addressed by the moniker almost the second they had signed the marriage license. She was thoroughly amused by it, and Phillip hadn’t been able to find any fault in that.

The elopement, predictably, hadn’t really been planned. Simply a decision made one morning over a breakfast of warm cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee after a relatively short engagement. 

Anne would never forget Phillip’s proposal, a romantic rooftop picnic under the stars, the ring hidden in the basket until he finally worked up the nerve to ask the big question. Nor would Anne forget the fact that she had known what he was planning for three full weeks before he had actually proposed. Not that she would ever let him know, she found it utterly adorable that he was rather inept at keeping secrets from her. 

Although she had been genuinely surprised when she learned he had gone to the trouble of asking permission from her mother, grandmother, _and_ W.D. before he even bought the ring. Phillip still refused to tell her the details of his conversation with W.D., but she imagined there were lots of threats of bodily harm. 

The actual wedding ceremony took place on a warm, clear afternoon in late summer, at the office of the Justice of the Peace. Anne had worn a simple white summer dress with lace trim, her bouquet a clutch of lavender roses, while Phillip had worn a light grey suit with a blue shirt that matched his eyes. 

It had been perfect. 

At Phillip’s properly asked question, Anne grinned widely and rewarded him with a kiss for his efforts before finally answering, “Hawaii. I’ve never seen the pacific ocean.” 

“Then Hawaii it is.” Phillip pecked her lips once more and started to get out of bed.

“Where are you going?” she asked, brows furrowed. 

“Reservations.” He pointed to the laptop on his desk, already thinking of all the ways he would make the honeymoon absolutely perfect for Anne. 

“No, that can wait for now.” Anne shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulled him back down to the bed. “You stay here.” 

He followed willingly, stretching out next to her with a grin. “Who am I to argue with my wife?” 

“Looks like I married a smart man,” she teased, fingers dancing over his jaw as she kissed him again. 

“Mm,” he hummed when they pulled apart, his heart skipping a beat when he looked at her with her hazy eyes and swollen lips. If she had been beautiful the first time he met her, she was beyond stunning now. “You married a lucky man.”

Anne scooted in close, threw a leg over Phillip’s waist until she was practically draped across him. His hands easily found their way to her waist, fingers curving over the small of her back. She pressed a soft kiss to his chest, his jaw, and his chin. 

“I think we’re both lucky,” she said. 

Phillip’s smile was wider now, infectious, his palms running slowly up and down her back. He was at ease, and he was happy. As happy as she was. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We’re both lucky.” 

Then he rolled them, pressing her into the bed as he moved over her. His weight was familiar, solid and welcome, and Anne was dimly reminded of a similar moment in a room with lilacs on the door. 

It almost seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had changed from that moment, and all for the better. This time there was no fog of doubt clouding their minds, instead there was only clear certainty. 

Anne knew he wanted her in every way she wanted him; had no fear or insecurity in his feelings for her. Phillip loved Anne as wholly and as completely as she loved him. She could see it shining in his bright eyes with every look they shared, and he saw the same reflected back in her wide, steadfast gaze. They kissed lazily in the warm morning sun, only the sound of their soft sighs and giddy laughter filling the room as their bodies began to move together in a languid, practiced rhythm. 

In that sweet, perfect moment he was completely hers, she was completely his, and they would happily belong to each other for the rest of their lives. 

~fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! I hope everyone enjoyed the ride, I know I did! I can't believe this turned into some 21K monster, but hey! Thank you so, so much for all the comments and encouragement, you are all lovely and I can't express how much I appreciated it. Some of you even made me tear up with your kind words. <3 <3 <3
> 
> I'll be back again with more fic at some point! In the meantime I'm antivanruffles on tumblr if you ever wanna scream about Anne and Phillip, or drop a prompt or just say hi. ^_^


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